


Double Meaning

by Devcon03



Series: Haven, Void and Beyond [10]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Breathplay, D/s, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Not Beta Read, Rough Sex, Sticky, spark-merging
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-17
Updated: 2017-03-17
Packaged: 2018-10-06 09:29:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10331588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Devcon03/pseuds/Devcon03
Summary: There are Solar-cycles when Starscream almost forgets that his mate is more than the possessive glitch that puts him to work behind the bar counter.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is for my bb, redseeker.
> 
>  **PLEASE** read the warnings - this fic contains rough sex. Also, I'd like you to remember that there is such a thing as _don't like, don't read_.

There are Solar-cycles when Starscream almost forgets that his mate is more than the possessive glitch that puts him to work behind the bar counter. 

”Domestic bliss,” he’ll drawl in disgust as the handsome piece of mech dries the tables like a good house-bot. Unable to contain his contempt, he’ll rant about the Autobot’s infuriating behaviour, because he cannot fathom _why_ Devcon enjoys the gritty work.

It’s the same routine every other Solar. Devcon will make him blend new cubes to loud music and dance back and forth, oblivious to the red gaze. Starscream will never admit it, but he enjoys these moments as well, just not as much as the additional bickering. 

This cycle is no exception.

Malice, sweet as the energon goodies he prepares, makes his glossa sharp as he methodically pushes every button to rail Devcon up. 

”Useless, worthless cog,” he hisses when nothing happens. Oh, well. Processor ticking away, he laughs silently as he invents new ways to make his mate lose his temper. Devcon ignores him and changes the song, nodding his helm to the beat, fingers splayed against the wall, hips moving slowly.

Starscream’s optics goes straight to that aft, glossa flicking out to lick his lower lip. That’s _fighting_ talk, just the silent kind. Devcon knows what he’s up to and plays him right back.

”Pathetic Autobot-slime," he snarls, all fangs, wings broad and high, tense. The insults aren’t enough, but he’ll do so much more, just to get a glimpse of what Devcon is keeping back from him. ”Weak, soft-sparked _fool_ …”

It takes skills and talent, honed by millions of years of spending time with Megatron, to know how to crack the serenity that Devcon surrounds himself with. When the surface finally ripples, and Devcon turns from the jukebox, Starscream laughs in victory.

_Yes!_

Devcon the bar keep is no more. In his place, pure darkness glares back at him as the Autobot becomes a creature made of wanton lust, of _hunger_ , and need. His wings tremble under the sudden change and his spark swells in pride.

Starscream knows there’s a distinct difference between Devcon and the hunter. He loves Devcon, is devoted like any bonded mech should be. The glitch has given him everything, and stripped him of all. There is no rank, no possession, no _nothing_ that he craves more than his mates approval.

Before Devcon, he stands proud like a emperor and demands his attention.

Before the hunter, he kneels like a slave.

Devcon stalks closer and Starscream’s intakes cycles faster, his vents picking up the sound of the roaring engines that steadily prowls closer. He holds Devcon’s optics, and shivers when a silent command presses through the bond. Starscream can deny, and he’ll get the thrill of being forced into submission. How sweet it is, the darkness that looms there, perfectly contained and controlled.

All _his_.

Trust, want, lust, furious passion - the cocktail of emotions assault Starscream’s frame, almost makes him want to beg. He comes alive under that glare, and he sighs sweetly, shuttering his optics, begging for it, wanting it all - the rough hands grabbing him and pulling him up and over the counter, the growling and purring of Devcon’s vocalizer, the heat of his bulk.

There are days when he fears the hunter too, but he trusts Devcon, his master and owner. His ally in this unknown 'verse they share.

The floor comes up to meet him and Starscream fights for the thrill of it. A hand to his throat holds him in place, pins him, and he yowls when rough fingers tear his panel open. He screams when the same fingers thrust into him, making him wince and spread his thighs open. Yes, yes, _yes_ , this… This he cannot be without.

”Wicked little drone… So wet already? So needy, mmm… I can scent you, ’Con. I can taste you already…”

Starscream’s intakes stutters and he swallows hard, heat making his movements languid. He gasps as Devcon shows no restrains and fuck his tender valve with hard, vicious thrusts. He yowls and writhes beneath the hunter, keeping the pretense up. He wants this, but he’ll fight his mate for the right of it, too. When the hand releases his neck, he snaps after it, sharp denta drawing energon, sweet and potent.

Devcon's growl is magnificent, it promises equal amounts of pleasure and pain. Starscream unshutters his optics and gives the hunter a show, his glossa collecting the drops of pure life that stain the silvery hand. He seals his lips around the small wound, suckling with a savage growl. Devcon slides his fingers out of his valve, and pulls at the little ring adorning his outer node, forcing a whimper out of him.

”Drone, _slave_. Toy… Decepticon whore. I’ll fuck you until you can’t walk, until you can’t process. I’ll fill your valve with my transfluid…”

Degrading words for the second most feared mech in any verse, but for Starscream, it’s praise. He sighs contently and bares his throat, and after a nano-klik, his spark. The thrill is a constant, slow beat within him and he knows Devcon still masters the both of them. He can smell his own excitement, his own need, spiked with throbbing fear. 

”What do you want, drone?”

”Nnnghh…!”

His thighs are pressed open, the weight of his mate is both comforting and protecting. Starscream gasps and arches, whining. He can’t say, he can’t explain, and as Devcon sets a punishing rhythm, more words follow. Starscream cries out, but he is being held, his hands pinned above his helm. He fights it, craving Devcon’s mastery, all of it.

The hunter bites him hard enough to draw energon and Starscream hears the howl echo in the bar. He is coming hard enough to shriek in pain. The hunter, optics so very cold, detached and violent, regards him with a smirk, knowing his prey through and through.

”What do you want, _slave_?”

”Nngh-… I… Oh, mmm, yes… Just u-use me, fuck me! Make m-me beg!”

A soft laugher and a hard kiss, then the pleasure is pain, and pain is pleasure and Starscream drowns in the sound of his mate’s words. The hunter tells him filthy, dirty things, his words so degrading that most mechs would attack, but Starscream responds differently to them, and he demands more, pleading, screaming, _begging_ until his own vocalizer glitch. 

Ecstasy, liquid and wicked, fills his frame to the sound of those dark, purring vocals. He breaks with a joyous sob when the steady beat of his mate’s spark merges with his own. From here on, the only words uttered are prayers, and it’s Devcon’s turn to beg. 

All Cybertronians he's met in one way or another put their faith in Primus, but Starscream knows that the hunter worships only one god, and his name is _Starscream_.

In his mate's arms he's a god, and if this isn't good enough, then _nothing_ is.


End file.
